


Heresy

by sleepymccoy



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, abstract references to aziraphale and crowley having a physical reelationship, also a lot of not subtle commentry on global warming from the author, and some unintentional flirting, show compliant but so far in the future does it really matter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 04:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19222081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepymccoy/pseuds/sleepymccoy
Summary: It's been 3000 years of pretty chill life for Aziraphale and Crowley. Beelzebub and Gabriel have been filling their empty posts all this time and things are beginning to change between them. They make the mistake of turning to those they tried to kill.





	Heresy

Crowley and Aziraphale were disregarded by their kind 3000 years ago in the early 21st century, right after the apocalypse didn’t happen. They've been luckier than they expected since, mainly due to the dramatic demotions of Gabriel and Beelzebub (Heaven and Hell had both found someone else to blame, namely their bosses) who had spent those 3000 years doing what Crowley and Aziraphale had been charged with since the beginning of time.

Crowley had found a pass time in interrupting their more impactful blessings and temptations, keeping humanity on whatever course humanity chose. Aziraphale spent more of his energies ensuring that Gabriel and Beelzebub couldn't find them, occasionally (to Crowley’s frustration) contradictingly meeting Gabriel for a tense brunch. Aziraphale and Crowley maintained an obvious but false presence on the south side of the equatorial dead zone to mislead Gabriel and Beelzebub.

So it was a surprise to Aziraphale when the bell to his and Crowley's top floor mud brick loft rang one morning and he opened the pneumatic elevator to find a dishevelled Gabriel. 

"What are you- I don't live here," Aziraphale lied in a panic.

Gabriel frowned. "I've known you live here for 300 years, can I come in?"

Aziraphale sagged. "I thought we did such a good job in Alice Springs."

"See, you thought you could trick me into thinking you and Crowley lived together there, but I know you better than that. You're still an Angel. Angels don’t bunk with Demons."

Aziraphale nodded with an exaggerated glumness as he quickly miracled the door to Crowley's office closed. He hoped he could find a way to explain all of the demonic art through their loft.

“Come in, of course.” Aziraphale gestured him inside. Gabriel walked in with a condescension Aziraphale was accustomed to by now. They made their way awkwardly to the back room, passing no small amount of uncomfortable paintings and statues. Aziraphale knew he was blushing by the time they sat among his most precious books, the ones he didn’t keep in his shop. 

There had been a brief surgeoncy of people worshipping Crowley specifically in the early 4000s and Crowley had shamelessly leapt at the opportunity to grow his art collection. Their main hallway was therefore full of fine paintings of proud snakes, grateful Eves (all of which resembled the original, Crowley had been accurate in his selection of pieces), and forlorn blonde angels holding apple cores in slightly lascivious ways which Crowley insisted were not representations of Aziraphale, but Aziraphale wasn’t convinced. And to top it off there was that statue of the two of them in a struggle or otherwise sat in the middle of Aziraphale’s sitting room. He rather liked it most of the time, but now under Gabriel’s eyes he found he was less fond.

Gabriel didn’t comment on any of the art, but did raise a judgemental eyebrow at a few pieces. Aziraphale accepted the escape from commentary without much question, deciding to appreciate his luck rather than read into the reasons why.

“Is there something you need from me, Gabriel?”

Gabriel sat where Crowley usually did. “Yes. Somewhat. Just some advice, I think,” he said uncertainly. 

Aziraphale sat down, not in his usual spot. “What is it?” He asked.

Gabriel shifted once, then twice. He started to speak then paused and chose different words. “Well,” he stalled. Aziraphale waited patiently. “Heaven didn’t give a damn about you for 6000 years. How’d you organise that?”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “If I remember correctly, you were my oversight and  _ you  _ didn’t give a damn about me,” he said with a false humility. He smiled politely.

Gabriel looked surprised at Aziraphale’s swearing. Aziraphale's smile became a smirk. He even said fuck sometimes now. Only in private, but still. Crowley had had an effect on him. 

“Why do you want Heaven off your back?” Aziraphale asked.

Gabriel shrugged. “They ask a lot, it’s constant work. I want to do some other stuff,” he said vaguely.

Aziraphale studied him for a moment, but ultimately decided to not push it. Gabriel had done him a favour or two in the last millennia, he could do the same. He leaned back in the rarely-used sofa chair. “Ask for bigger projects, use more circuitous methods. Complete your work but take three times as long. They don’t know what humanity’s doing, tell them Beelzebub- It’s still Beelzebub you’re working against, right?”

Gabriel flushed a little at that. He nodded.

“Tell them Beelzebub has refocused and you’re having to work harder to thwart her.”

Gabriel frowned. “She’s not, though.”

Aziraphale shrugged. 

“You mean lie?” Gabriel asked. After a beat he looked mildly impressed. “It never occurred to me that you lied to Heaven.”

“Well I didn’t lie, exactly. My blessings all got done right, it just wasn’t _ necessarily _ my work. My impact, though,” Aziraphale said defensively.

Gabriel frowned, trying to unravel that statement. 

“Besides, you know,” Aziraphale continued despite himself, “If the both of you are working in the same area it has the same effect as neither of you working, so maybe talk to her and see if you can’t make life easier for the two of you.”

Gabriel looked shocked, but that he didn’t say anything admonishing meant that he was perhaps considering this. 

Aziraphale stood. “Tea?” He offered. Gabriel refused. 

By the time Aziraphale was sitting again with his tea, Gabriel seemed less distracted. Gosh, Aziraphale missed cocoa, he hadn’t realised how lucky he’d been to experience the world when it was stable enough to grow cocoa.

“This sounds a lot like heresy,” Gabriel said quietly.

Aziraphale hummed in dissent. “Depends on your perspective, I think,” he said.

Gabriel nodded, still thinking.

The front door slammed open, causing Aziraphale to jump in surprise and spill his tea on the armrest. 

“You won’t  _ believe  _ who accosted me on the street,” Crowley shouted down the hallway.

“Bugger,” Aziraphale muttered. He stood up quickly and blocked Gabriel’s view of Crowley sauntering furiously down the hallway. “How- how dare you enter this holy place, demon!” Aziraphale called out.

Crowley stopped and threw his arms open in innocence. “What did I do?” He asked. “Look, blanket apology for whatever this is, but seriously, try and guess who just  _ chased me _ for  _ five blocks _ ”

“Fiend,” Aziraphale accused lamely.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll tell you.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Beelzebub!” Crowley threw his arms wide and gasped in exaggerated shock as he waited for Aziraphale’s response.

Aziraphale glanced back at Gabriel. He’d stood and was behind the couch, looking at Aziraphale both in shock and asking for guidance. _Do we fight?_ He mouthed.

“Maybe she’s trying to bring back chugging,” Crowley mused as he strolled towards Aziraphale, patting the angel’s chest in greeting. Aziraphale decided not to follow his curiosity and didn’t ask what chugging was.

“Gabriel’s here,” Aziraphale said simply.

Crowley froze. “Ah…” he said, trying to respond. “I’ll thwart you!” he said weakly. He gave Aziraphale a hopeful grin.

“I rather think that chance has passed, my dear,” Aziraphale whispered.

There was a loud knocking at the door. Crowley winced. “I thought I’d lost her,” he apologised. He looked beyond Aziraphale at Gabriel. “Hi there, git,” he said.

Gabriel breathed in sharply. “Good morning, you miserable little-”

“I’ll get the door, shall I?” Aziraphale offered. He walked away quickly, hoping that if he returned fast enough then the trading of insults wouldn’t escalate to property damage.

The pneumatic elevator plopped a pissed off Beelzebub before him. “...for one minute, you stuck up- Aziraphale!” She stopped her tirade in surprise.

Aziraphale frowned at her, glad for once that he was taller than someone. “You’re not welcome here, Beelzebub,” he said seriously. Then he forced a smile and invited her in. “Gabriel’s in the parlour, join us.”

She seemed mighty thrown by this turn of events. “I was here to talk to Crowley,” she said uncertainly as she followed him down the hallway.

Aziraphale stopped and faced her, speaking quickly and quietly, grateful for the moment that Crowley’s yelling in the far room would cover his threat. “You touch him, and- well. Please remember that you are the only one in this house who can be hurt by holy water.”

Beelzebub sneered at him, but her wide eyes betrayed her realisation and fear. 

As they entered the parlour they were greeted by a clattering as Crowley knocked a small table over. He threw himself at Gabriel, pushing the angel hard against the wall. Aziraphale noticed with some satisfaction that no part of Crowley was actually touching Gabriel except his forearm, which had him nearly choked. 

“Crowley, my books!” Aziraphale cried out.

“Understand?” Crowley whispered furiously, ignoring Aziraphale for the moment.

Gabriel nodded. Crowley pushed his arm harder against him, willing to hurt the Angel to make his point. 

Aziraphale carefully avoided the overturned coffee table and pulled Crowley off. He didn’t have to use any force, Crowley did as directed. 

Crowley clapped his hand over Aziraphale’s and moved away with him. Aziraphale noted how careful Crowley was to keep himself between the two angels. “He tried very hard to kill you, remember?” Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale nodded. “Sit down, my dear,” he suggested.

Everyone sat, the silence tense. Beelzebub took the sofa chair across from Gabriel. Crowley waited for Aziraphale to sit, then sat right next to him on the loveseat and leaned forward to glare and Gabriel. 

“Well, this is a curious room,” Beelzebub commented.

Crowley hissed in response without taking his eyes off Gabriel. Aziraphale carefully pressed two fingers against the back of Crowley’s hand to calm him. 

Gabriel put his hands on his thighs expectantly. “Shall we do away with a few pretences, perhaps?” He suggested.

“What?” Beelzebub snapped.

“Really?” Crowley asked at the same moment.

Gabriel looked at Crowley smugly. “You two live together,” he said.

Crowley leaned back against the couch, letting his hand fall quite high on Aziraphale’s thigh. “Nope,” he lied brazenly.

Gabriel half rolled his eyes, but caught himself before his exasperation could be taken as an insult. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go first.”

Beelzebub was watching him closely, perched uncomfortably on the edge of her chair.

“This filthy demon and I have been talking,” Gabriel said, indicating Beelzebub. “And we thought that, from this side of things, the methodology you two… exemplified could make for a better time.” He glanced at Beelzebub and gesticulated at her in frustration to speak up.

She cleared her throat. “Um, yes. We were hoping for some… advice,” she said, sounding disgusted at herself. “Individually.”

“Unfortunately,” Aziraphale said, “Crowley and I worked together, so we can’t help with an individual approach.” Aziraphale felt like he was missing something, and given how slack Crowley’s hand had gone on his thigh, he was clearly focusing on something. He hoped Crowley figured it out, Aziraphale was always slow on the uptake.

“We could- we could work together,” Gabriel said hesitantly, looking at Beelzebub a remarkable seven times in ten seconds. Beelzebub scoffed, but kept her eyes trained on him.

Crowley gasped loudly, his hand tightening. Aziraphale watched as Crowley looked back and forth between Gabriel and Beelzebub in amazement. “What?” Aziraphale asked Crowley.

Crowley started excitedly smacking Aziraphale’s thigh, trying to speak but too overwhelmed to do so. After a moment of this he turned and pressed his lips against Aziraphale’s ear and whispered, “They’re into each other.”

“No,” Aziraphale said instantly dismissive. He looked at the two guests, both blushing, both absurdly uncomfortable. “No,” he repeated, more doubtful. He met Crowley’s excited gaze. “Surely not.”

Crowley scrambled to sit up, pulling one of his legs under himself so he could face Aziraphale on the seat. He pulled Aziraphale closer, inadvertently sending a shiver down Aziraphale’s spine as his fingers dragging across Aziraphale’s neck. Crowley was always a much more competent flirt when he wasn’t trying, as soon as he tried he got tongue tied and tripped over and insulted him. “I swear, think about it,” he whispered, his breath tickling Aziraphale’s earlobe. “They’re both assholes, they’re exactly each others type.”

Aziraphale smiled and pushed Crowley away, his hand staying comfortably on the Demon’s waist. He studied Gabriel for a moment, then decided to broach the subject openly. “You won’t be smited for your emotions, Gabriel. No matter how... repugnant.”

“I dunno,” Crowley said as he leaned against the armrest, rearranging the leg he’d curled under himself so his knee rested against Aziraphale. “He’s a lot closer to falling than you are.”

Aziraphale frowned at Crowley. “Come now, don’t be rude,” he advised quietly.

“Really,” Crowley said conversationally, speaking loudly enough that he could be sure his words wouldn’t be missed by anyone. “He’s overflowing with Wrath, and Envy.” Crowley turned his head slowly to look at Gabriel. “And Greed.” He jolted his knee, knocking Aziraphale slightly. “Your Pride is sweet, Zira. His tastes of hubris.”

“I’m not going to listen to this drivel,” Gabriel said smartly, standing up and walking out of the room after one last questioning glance at Beelzebub.

Aziraphale went to stop him, but realised that he didn’t really want to. He hadn’t wanted to turn him away, but he was happy to let Crowley do that for both of them. Having a Demon with your best interests at heart did make life more pleasant sometimes. Regardless, he ran into Gabriel every couple of centuries, he could apologise later.

“Nah gonna listen a’ this drivel,” Crowley mocked in a sing-song voice as he left. “Why are you still here?” He threw at Beelzebub.

Beelzebub grinned horribly and leaned forward. “What’s it like, to fuck an Angel?” She asked, her tone furious. "Is it worth it?"

Aziraphale felt Crowley go tense and quickly stood up, breaking the instantly hostile atmosphere. “Would you like a glass of water, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked loudly, glaring at Beelzebub.

She swallowed and stood. “I’ll see myself out,” she said with a smirk. 

“Fuck you!” Crowley shouted after her. Aziraphale stood and watched as Gabriel waited by the pneumatic elevator for her, keeping a close eye on them both until they left. 

Once the door shut and the sound of the elevator finished Aziraphale slowly turned to face Crowley. He was splayed on the couch like he’d been hit over the head with a croquet mallet, staring up at the roof in amazement.

“Oh my Go- I mean-” Crowley said, catching himself as he spoke. His mouth moved for a few more seconds as he desperately brainstormed for an appropriate outburst. “Fuck!” He finally shouted. He sat up and locked eyes with Aziraphale. “Zira!”

“I know,” Aziraphale agreed, “I’m flabbergasted.”

They stared at each other wildly for a minute, then Aziraphale came and sat next to Crowley. “Maybe this is Her plan after all,” Crowley mused.

Aziraphale frowned. “You think Her ineffable plan is matchmaking?”

“It certainly seems a bit that way!”

“I doubt it.”

Crowley grinned at him slyly. “Ooh, don’t doubt too hard, you know what happened to me.”

Aziraphale chuckled.

Crowley sighed. “We should move house,” he suggested.

Aziraphale nodded. “Indeed.”

“What about New Germany?”

“It’s quite warm there now, isn’t it? Sounds nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> I fell hard into Good Omens! I'm working on another fic that's a fair bit longer, but the idea of it being kinda a thing that if a demon and an angel work alongside each other on earth for a time, love of some sort is inevitable. And I figured that Gabriel was plenty a sinner already, so he'd lean for it quicker than Aziraphale  
> I wrote this in one sitting, so there's probably some clunky bits but I hope it's a fun read regardless!


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